by Ronie Kendig
Heath stood, scanned Trin’s new outfit, and couldn’t help the smile. Sleek and sophisticated, the new vest made her appear top of the line. “You look sexy, girl.” Smoothing a hand over her head, he whispered, “Do me proud like always.” He released her lead and once again showed his girl the sweatshirt. “Trinity, seek.”
She spun around, tail wagging, and headed out of the tent. Now, here was a classic example of trust. Trinity had never let him down. Even when he’d been flat on his back, unconscious.
He stayed within a half-dozen feet, monitoring her, the surroundings, and waiting … anticipating that second when she’d get a—
Her bark lanced his anticipation. She sat and stared again.
Good girl. “She’s got a hit.” Heath jogged toward her.
Trinity’s powerful front legs hauled her over an incline, her back legs scrambling for purchase. Rocks and debris dribbled down, dusting Heath’s face as he hurried to maintain a visual.
“Daniels, hold up!”
“No, go, go,” Candyman shouted. “UAV shows movement in that area.”
Exhilaration of the hunt propelled Heath onward. He searched for headache pangs, dizziness … Nothing.
Zigzagging, Trinity darted along a snow-covered path, her silky amber-and-black coat a stark contrast to the bed of white lying deeper with each hour. Grateful for the boots protecting his feet, Heath would need to monitor her condition. Trinity would keep working till her last breath if it meant completing the task he’d given her.
It amazed him, really. For him, it was a mission to honor his country, to do his best. For her, it was also a mission to do her best, but she lived for one goal: to please him. Loyal, brave …
No different than the men hauling butt behind him. To his left, he noticed a man consistently at his side. Zheng Haur.
Around a bend, Trinity slowed. Sniffed. Circled back.
“What’s wrong?” Watters asked.
Heath shook his head. She’d find the trail soon. “Just give her room to work.” As they waited, wind and heavy breathing from the team swirled together. Heath tugged up his collar and tucked his chin, seeking warmth against the dropping temperatures.
“Snow’s probably covering up the trail.” Watters hunched his shoulders as his breath came out in steamy puffs.
Heath nodded. True, but if the trail was there, Trinity would find it.
She trotted back to him, circled, then returned to a cleft. Heath walked behind her but noted the others slumping against rocks and crouching. Taking five. Anxiety crept around his shoulders and tightened. Come on, girl. You can do it.
A lone bark strapped through the afternoon.
Heath hurried to where she sat. “What is it, girl?”
She scooted forward on her haunches. Nose to the rocks.
“What’s she got, Daniels?”
“Not sure.” Kneeling, he studied where snow had piled up against the rocks. He brushed aside the loose powder.
Trinity nudged in beside him, her snout acting as an arrow.
And he saw. The snow he’d brushed aside was stained red. “Blood.” He cleared away a larger area and the circle grew.
“Human? Animal?”
Heath shook his head as Watters crouched beside him. “No way to know. But with the location, and since Trinity hit on it and had Jia’s scent …”
“We know Jia was injured—the girl said she was shot. Might be her blood.”
Nodding, Heath stood. “Maybe they took a break here.”
“Or she fell.”
“Possible. Maybe both.” Heath turned and surveyed the path. “So, if they came this way …” The path wasn’t wide and didn’t branch off, so there would only be one course of action. “Why can’t Trin catch her scent?”
“Perhaps she was unconscious.” The thickly accented voice came from behind.
Heath and Watters turned toward Zheng Haur.
Zheng shrugged. “They would have to carry her, which would mean her scent would not be as strong. Yes?”
“No. There are different types of tracking—air-scent dogs and tracking dogs. Trinity is trained mostly for air scent, but she does have tracking, or trailing, training.” Heath looked around the scene. “Which makes her losing the scent a mystery.” Vertical collided with horizontal. The path disappeared around a bend. What options were there that might preclude Trinity from maintaining course? Hidden trails? The escapees getting choppered out? Nah, the peaks were too jagged and close together to allow that. So …
Hand along the cliff face, Heath wondered …
Watters leaned in. “What are you thinking?”
“The woman who brought the Afghan child to the FOB said they hid in a cave-like tunnel.”
Watterboy spun toward the rest of the team. “Search for a tunnel.”
Heath stepped back and peered up at the overhang that partially covered this section of the path. He visually traced it as he moved until a jagged crescent blinked at him. “See that?”
“A ledge broke off—small avalanche.”
Heath jabbed his hand into the mound and hauled back a section of snow. The others moved in without a word to help clear it away.
“Got it!” Candyman announced. “There’s a tunnel.”
Manpower tripled on the site to clear the debris away. Once a hole was made, Watters waved everyone back. “Give Ghost and Trinity room to work.”
Nodding his appreciation to Watterboy, Heath motioned Trinity into the opening that yawned in the face of the mountain. The rubble inside shifted as Heath maneuvered into the darkness. Weapon up, SureFire button pressed, he sidestepped into the black hole. Trinity’s claws clicked as she moved beneath the beam of light. She barked and kept moving.
“She’s got it.” Heath twisted and turned back.
When he did, a loud whoosh breathed through the tunnel.
Darkness collapsed on him.
Twenty-Eight
Deep in the Hindu Kush
18 Klicks from Chinese Border
Move!”
A weight plowed into her back. Darci pitched forward. Her palms poofed the new fallen snow. Though they’d stuffed her in a heavy jacket, it was several sizes too big and made movement awkward at best.
Gentle hands helped her up.
Though inclined to accept the help, she shoved away. Surprise rippled through her—she’d thought Jianyu had shot him. Thought it was over.
“Hey,” Toque said. “I’m just trying to help.”
“Help by staying out of my way and mind.”
“What in blazes does that mean?”
Shouts collided with their argument. Two of Jianyu’s men pried Toque away from Darci. As they supported her, she eyed Toque. Though not an enemy, the Brits had been notoriously antagonistic and arrogant in their presumptions about Americans. She had no reason to trust him. Considering he’d hidden his identity from her, infiltrated her mission, she had all the facts to hold him in contempt and as an enemy.
Spies didn’t trust other spies. When one lives a life of constant vigilance, it does not lend itself well to relationships. But oh, she’d like to change that. This mission—she didn’t think she’d make it back alive. Not this time. Escaping Jianyu last time had been a miracle. She spent a lot of time in church, thanking God. But she wanted to make it back this time. She had something she wanted to explore. Heath. A relationship.
Jianyu sauntered toward her. Though he had the looks, behind his eyes lay malice. Why hadn’t she seen it before … before it was too late? How had she ever seen anything desirable in him? Stark and startling, the differences between Heath and Jianyu were like winter and spring. One icy cold and brutal. The other warm and inviting.
“Can you walk, or must I shoot you like an injured cow?”
Indignation flared across her chest, but she batted it aside. “Please.” She tightened her mouth. “Do me the favor.”
With a flourish, he whipped out a Type 92 heavy machine gun and aimed it at her.
Darci
quaked inside but could not show that he held any power over her. “If you shoot me, you can’t drag me back to throw at your father’s feet.”
A small twitch flickered through his lips.
“That is what you’re doing, isn’t it? Right after you make this rendezvous?”
Raising his chin, he stuffed the weapon in its holster. “Do not try to bleed me for information, Meixiang. I have none after what you did to me in Taipei City.”
“You would do no less in the name of China.”
“I would not have condemned the one I loved to humiliation and dishonor!”
“Don’t be a fool. Of course you would have—you do it now!”
His hand flew, the slap stinging against her cheek.
Darci stumbled back into a steady hold. A face appeared over her shoulder. Toque. Again. She shrugged out of his grip. “Don’t touch me.”
“See?” Jianyu gloated. “She treats even allies as enemies.” He swung his arm toward the front. “March.”
“We don’t have the supplies to make it over the pass.” She needled his confidence, at least she hoped she did. Darci thrust her chin toward the slope of the mountain. “That’s where we’re going, right? Over the pass into China?”
“Move, or I will drag you.”
Darci plodded onward, using the steep incline on her right for support. The cold pouring out of the rock seeped into her fingers. Traveled up her wrist and all the way into her heart. As the sun lay to rest in the embrace of the Hindu Kush, she lost all feeling in her hands. Her toes. Her heart.
“You’re being idiotic,” Toque muttered as they slowed.
“I don’t care what you think.”
“I’m your ally, Darci. Let me help?”
“An ally in what? Death?” She pushed away from him, shoved her hands in the deep pockets of the coat, and burrowed into herself. Focused on staying alive. Getting better wasn’t an option right now. They’d wrapped a stiff bandage around her waist, but she could feel something deeper sinking into her. Maybe it wasn’t the broken ribs that bothered her, but the wound in her soul.
Darci planted one foot in front of the other. That was her only goal. But with each step, her legs grew heavier. Her mind slower. Her heart emptier. Somehow, without her permission, her thoughts drifted to a handsome handler and his energetic war dog. He had strength in a way few men did, but something had buried it beneath layers of self-doubt. Still, she could tell he’d once been a no-holds-barred warrior. The way he’d called her out, been unafraid to challenge her halfhearted attempt to shove him out of her life.
Oh, she’d wanted anything but that. In a whirlwind life of betrayals, deception, distance, and loneliness, a warm inviting wind blew during her time with Heath Daniels. He’d noted her throwing arm, a skill she’d honed and few cared about. It was silly, but he seemed to approve.
“Thought so.” Those gray eyes of his had caressed her face as he stared down at her after she’d … chased after him. Chased? Since when did Darci Kintz, military intelligence officer, chase after anyone except a mark?
Darci, you’ve lost it.
No, no she hadn’t. There’d just been something about him walking away, thinking she wasn’t interested.
Not that she could pursue a relationship.
Why not? Being human gave her that right. And she was free.
You’re an operative. United States Government Issue. Property. Owned.
Did that mean she couldn’t have a life?
Hesitation caught her by surprise. Until now, she would’ve said yes because her moral obligation was to her country.
Darci shook her head. Insanity. Here she sat, thinking about the possibility of a romantic relationship with a man who probably just wanted a casual date. Who said he was looking for more?
Besides, none of that mattered right now, considering Jianyu held the reins on her life and intended to drive her straight into Taipei City.
What if Heath came after her? Came to rescue her?
What? Now you’re a damsel in distress?
“Might want to drag your head out of those clouds and pay attention.”
Darci scowled at Toque.
“Something’s happening.”
Elbowing past him, she regained her bearings. Unfortunately, he had a point. They’d slowed, and Jianyu now stood with another man at the crest of a hill, radio held near his ear.
Radio? Up here?
Dread swiped through her.
A radio meant two things: He had contact with someone in the area.
And that meant his allies were within range.
A chorus of cheers shot up from the others.
“What is it?” Toque asked.
Darci urged herself forward, and when she reached the edge, a wide valley swept out below them. Several small, dark plumes snaked up across the bed of white. A village. Small but inhabited.
What haunted her was not the half dozen huts huddled against the storm. Nor the smoke rising from offset roofs, but the disturbed snow leading into the village. Tire tracks. Large, wide tire tracks that rushed right up to a gathering of trucks.
Russian military.
Twenty-Nine
Deep in the Hindu Kush
25 Klicks from Chinese Border
Heath froze as he stared at the blackened rubble that two seconds ago had been an opening. Indecision gripped him tight. Should he dig his way through or …?
He looked to his left and killed his torch. Was that …? He squinted and waited for his eyes to adjust. Was he seeing things? Pulling himself off the wall, he heard shouts muffled by the avalanche of rock and debris from behind. Ahead the darkness seemed to surrender its power to a light source.
Heath bathed the tunnel in light. Two eyes glowed back at him. “Trinity, seek.” The eyes vanished, and he knew she’d looked down the far length of the tunnel. Her claws scritched over the rocks. Heath moved fast and with as much stealth as he could muster, deeper into the belly of the mountain. He’d heard about these tunnels, as vast as the blades of grass and rock that peppered the terrain. Taliban had hidden themselves, hidden high-value targets effectively. Too effectively.
Ahead, darkness lost its power. Heath turned off the lamp as he rounded another corner. Light stretched into the tunnel and embraced him. His pulse thrummed at the sight of the opening. Silhouetted by the light, Trinity stood at the mouth.
“Trinity, heel,” Heath whispered.
With a flick of her ears, she turned and trotted back to him.
Inching closer, he drew up his weapon. Pressed himself against one side, unwilling to become a block of swiss cheese, compliments of the Taliban. Or any other well-armed, terrorist-minded Afghan.
Heath peered out, breathing a little easier when only a strong wind and a stomped path met him. Easing out, he scanned left, then right down the scope. Footprints matched his theory that this path had been traveled recently. Dark spots pulled him to a knee. Blood.
“Daniels,” came an echo-laden call.
Heath shifted and glanced back to the tunnel. “Here. Just around the corner. It’s clear.” Once more, he scanned the area. No more than four feet wide, the path disappeared in a northeasterly direction, and if he missed that path, the valley floor would be a jagged, painful hundred-foot drop to another swirl of paths ringing a lower, rocky peak.
With the pressure building in his head and his chest, Heath knew they were pushing into higher altitudes. This is where the Kush divided the men from the boys.
“We thought we’d lost you.” Watterboy emerged from the tunnel with a shudder. “Man, I hate those things.”
“Claustrophobic?” Bai sneered as he and Haur joined them.
“No.” Gaze dark, Watters scowled. “I saw a team get ambushed in a tunnel.”
“The path is trampled, and you can see blood spots.” Heath pointed them out.
“Seems our guys knew where they were going.” Watters made way for Candyman and formed a huddle.
Trinity nudged her way past He
ath’s legs and sat in the middle, panting as she smiled up at him. He rubbed her ears, rewarding her discipline and good trekking.
“Can’t say it’s a convenient accidental detour.” Candyman winked. “Taking one of those tunnels, you could end up in South Africa. It’d be a mighty lucky guess.”
“Or perhaps the weather drove them into the tunnel, and they merely happened upon a shortcut.” Haur scooted aside so more of the Green Beret team could fill the path.
“Right.” Watterboy nodded to Heath. “Let’s get moving. We’re losing daylight fast, and I don’t want to take a wrong turn and fly to my death.”
“Agreed.” Heath reached for Trinity, and she moved into position beside him.
Dirt and rock spat at him. In the seconds it took to register, Heath heard shouts from behind.
“Taking fire, taking fire!”
Heath pressed himself to the ground, doing his best to shield Trinity.
“Where are they?”
“Anyone got eyes on the shooters?”
Heath urged Trinity closer to the rocks, and his girl low-crawled, ears flat and belly against the rocks, to the solid wall. Twisting on his side, Heath brought up his weapon and scanned the outlying area.
Seconds lengthened to minutes as they searched for the shooters.
“Think they left?” Candyman asked.
“Put your head up and find out,” Watters said, his face void of the sarcasm his words implied.
A soft pop and dribbling rocks sounded to Heath’s left. Then a hard breath.
“Who was stupid enough to lift his head?” Watterboy asked.
“What are they waiting for? They could wipe us off the map.”
“Exactly,” Heath muttered. “They have us trapped. They live to kill Americans, and they’ve been waiting for this. No way they’d give it up.”
“Agreed.” Watterboy’s gruff voice rattled the air.
“Then why aren’t they shooting?”
Haur’s question was a good one. Heath had been wondering about that same thing.
Tsing!
A whiff of gunpowder stung his nose a second before more debris peppered the back of his head. “Down.” Heath swept his reticle along the ridge. “They’re below us.” Which explained why they hadn’t been shooting—they couldn’t see the team flattened on the path.